To live again
by Xandra76
Summary: House is struggling with some previously unacknowledged personal issues after being released from prison. But maybe he's not really as alone as he seems to think he is.
1. Chapter 1

**To live again**

Abstract: House is struggling with some previously unacknowledged personal issues after being released from prison. But maybe he's not really as alone as he seems to think he is.

Timeframe: This is set after the third episode of season 8.

The usual disclaimers apply – nothing here is mine.

Chapter 1

Dr. Gregory House, medicine-man extraordinaire, never wrong about patients and human beings in general, hard-ass, bastard, not giving a crap about anyone, ever. Really. Pushing away from the rail above the large entrance hall of the hospital he scowled bitterly to himself.

What the fuck got into him to 'save' Thirteen? And just when things started to look up for a change – he got Wilson's reluctant friendship back, his office, the patient-puzzle was solved, thus proving again that altruism was nothing more than a symptom... in short, life was beginning to be, well, livable again. So, why send Thirteen on her way just as he got her to take his bait and come back? The previous train of thought returned, playing like an annoying mantra in his head _'...hard-ass, bastard, not giving a crap about anyone...'_. Right. No problem then. With this he could live, he had for a long time now. And if he chose to ignore the fact that sending Thirteen on her way and into her girlfriend's waiting arms was essentially an altruistic act, who could blame him? It must have been just a computer error, a neuron misfiring, a side effect of...something.

Unlocking his apartment door with a tired sigh he gave up trying to find a suitable rationalization. Uh, _explanation_. He had, after all, other means to stop the thinking and keep his self-image intact. Getting out of prison must be celebratory enough to break out the 15 years old bottle of scotch, for sure.

He realized the error of his ways much too late - the scotch was in fact the worst possible solution. A long time without alcohol lowered his tolerance level drastically, he thought as he swirled the brown liquid around in his only third glass of the evening. And, apparently, by some unwanted miracle, the previously reliable combination of alcohol and Vicodin brought up everything he really didn't want to think about. No euphoria, no numbness, no un-clarity, nothing. Just clear, cold, sharp bits of thought that he just couldn't push away anymore. Fuck. Somebody up there must really hate him.

Guitar, blaring stereo, even idiotic TV shows – he would try anything, anything to stop his mind from firing. Of course, nothing worked, the sharp painful arrows of thought continuing to drill through his brain. _Maybe it's karma_. Another one. _'Get the hell out of my head, Wilson, you had no problem getting out of my life'. _Aaa, and there's a big one. House knew very well how bad his screw-up was, knew he had to be punished, which is why he refused a lawyer and went to prison. Rationally he knew it was bound to alienate everybody, hell, he had enough time to think about that. The problem was that reason was one thing and emotions another. So, yeah, maybe the '_not giving a crap about anyone' _part was bull. The mask he always wore was just that, a mask. Not that he was a big soft teddy-bear underneath, but he wasn't a hard-ass 'I don't need anybody' either. Somehow, stupidly, he expected certain people to see through that, to see _him_, even with all the smoke-screens he threw. Well, wasn't _that_ a failure. Cuddy turned around and left him at the first screw-up, and that was still painful. Maybe he wasn't in love with her anymore, _'and thank God for that'_, but the rejection still stung deeply. After everything, after all the 'I know you and I don't want you to change' talks, she left and didn't once look back. That easy. And Wilson...his best friend, his only friend really, not one visit, not one phone call, nothing. It's like House didn't exist anymore. Again, that easy. Foreman, Chase, Taub...maybe they weren't exactly friends, but still... And Thirteen, another punch to the gut. A bigger, fresher one this time, momentarily cutting the air to his lungs and making his fists clench. While she wasn't a 'let's-go-to-the-ball-game-together' kind of a friend, House always felt some sort of a connection with her. Like she was somebody who could read him better than most, somebody who _understood_.

The road trip from after she got out of prison, the few drunken late-night talks a while after that - he thought, again stupidly, that she felt the connection too. But she also left without looking back, more than once, actually. He didn't blame her for today, hell, he was the one to send her away and he was really... _pleased_ for her. Yeah, she deserved a little happiness, and if sending her away didn't sit well with his self-image, well, he'd have to live with that. He resolutely ignored the painful tightening in his heart at the thought of how...expendable he really was to her and all the others. Fuck them, fuck them all, he didn't need anybody and didn't care about anybody, right? Right.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

As the loud ringing burrowed its way into his semi-conscious state, House jumped up from the armchair, heart in his throat. Sharp fiery pain shot up his leg and he grabbed hard at his thigh, biting back any sound that threatened to escape his lips. It took a few moments to clear his head, eyes wildly searching. '_Home, this was home, not prison, nobody to kill me if I scream in the middle of the night'_. The doorbell rang again, anchoring him a little.

He opened the door without checking who was on the other side, leaning heavily against the wall.

"You look like crap, House"

Thirteen. What the hell?

"You came all this way to impart that piece of wisdom, _Huntington_?"

She shrugged her shoulders, ignoring his jab. "Just saying. So, you're gonna let me in or what?"

He stared at her for a few seconds, not moving, mind going a mile per minute. "Sure, why not"

Moving from his spot against the wall proved to be a much more difficult task then he anticipated though, and she ended up supporting most of his weight on the way back to the armchair.

"Are you drunk?"

"Not anymore. Vicodin seems to be out of my system as well". He was still breathing heavily, face wet with the effort.

She lowered her eyes for a second, embarrassed at her assumption and passed him a pill from the small table. He swallowed it dry, leaning his head back.

"You seem to have put on some body mass"

"Yeah well, regular meals, exercise... What can I say, prison is good for your physique...among other things"

She was quiet for a few moments. "I know"

House opened his eyes to look at her. He almost forgot, she did know.

"So, you _did_ come here just to give me a status report on my physical condition"

"No, I came to..." _Wait, why exactly did she come?_ Things seemed much clearer when she was at home, having dropped her girlfriend off at her own place. "...see you" she finished lamely.

He cocked his head to one side, narrowing his eyes. His 'I-can-see-through-you' look.

"Well, I'm guessing you either felt sorry for me, as you imagined I'm all alone drinking myself into a stupor, which, I might add, was true, or you felt guilty, again. Or both, actually"

She didn't reply anything, not that House really expected her to, so he went on.

"Let me put your mind, or heart, or whatever, at ease. I'm usually alone and drinking myself into a stupor, as you well know, so nothing special there. And cut the guilt crap, one trip per day should be enough. I'm fine, see? Don't need a babysitter"

"I didn't come to babysit you. I just thought, I don't know, that you shouldn't be alone...now. You...you were there for me when I got out..."

"Aah, so it _is_ a guilt trip. Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but I was there when you got out just 'cause I needed somebody to help me at the spud-gun competition. Don't read anything else into it. You just happened to be available. You don't need to return the favor- as I said, I'm perfectly fine!"

She didn't look like she was buying any of it, at all. '_No wonder'_, House thought, truth was he did feel like crap, raw and vulnerable, mask barely in place. He couldn't even lie properly, and that was saying a lot. He laid his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes. He couldn't handle her right now. Maybe some other time, when the walls and the smoke-screens and all the other defenses were back in place...maybe then he could tell her a few things. But not now, please not now.

"You can let yourself out, I'm tired"

"No"

"G'night"

He heard her shuffling her feet, obviously at a loss as what to do. A couple of minutes passed, and she was still there.

"House..."

He opened his eyes again. "I thought we said our heartfelt goodbyes at the hospital. Just go riding into the Greek sunset or whatever and let me be"

"I don't want to leave" the meaning unclear. _'She doesn't want to leave here or...'_

"Since when? You seemed pretty set to leave earlier. What, princess charming not good enough anymore?"

"She has nothing to do with this. That's not why..."

"So why the hell? I told you – you're fired! Nothing for you here anymore!" he was practically yelling by now.

Her eyes flashed, temper threatening to flare, voice rising in intensity.

"It's not the job, it's you! Pleased? It wasn't just the patients that were keeping me here, the lives that needed saving, my 'gift'. It was much more selfish than that. I didn't, don't, wanna leave _you_!"

He stood up now and faced her, anger flooding every cell of his body. "Don't you dare put this on me! I am _nothing_ to you, as you are _nothing_ to me. And don't insult me by pretending otherwise. We're not even friends, as the lack of communication during my...vacation proved very clearly. If you don't want to leave with your girlfriend it's because you're chicken shit about having a more meaningful relationship than drunken one night stands!"

She slapped him, hard. He stumbled back, managing to keep upright this time. Twice in a day, a record even for himself.

"Fuck you, House! Did you even stop to consider that maybe I couldn't come visit? That maybe I couldn't see the inside of a prison again? That maybe I didn't want to see you there? I know I didn't want anyone to see me when..." she trailed off, the meaning clear.

He studied her for a few moments, with an almost clinical detachment. She was gorgeous when she was angry. Sure, she was always beautiful, but now... _'Wait, where the hell did that come from?'_

"Sooo, I'll ask you again. Why did you come here?" he schooled his voice into cold indifference, protective mechanisms back in place for the moment. _'Thank God for small favors'_ House thought. He could see her losing the tenuous grip on her temper again and braced for another shouting match. He was always one step ahead after all... and then he got the shock of his lifetime.

She reached him in two large steps and slammed her mouth against his in a bruising, open-mouthed kiss. Too stunned to react in any way, his mouth opened out of pure instinct and her tongue slipped inside, tangling with his. Still no rational thought could penetrate his mind and he leaned his head to one side, deepening the kiss, lips and tongue moving against hers, a hand holding the back of her head. She held him closer still, her body pressing into him from head to toe before pushing him back to drop in the armchair he just vacated. He grunted, trying to push her away. This was not really happening, couldn't happen... but then she straddled him, knees on both sides of his hips and pressed down hard against him. No way House could have stopped the upward jerk of his hips or the hungry groan he released into her mouth. She kept on kissing him, deep and hot, while she rubbed incessantly against him, driving him crazy with need. Of course, that was the moment his blood-deprived brain started to function again. He gripped her hips hard, stilling her movements and tore his mouth away.

"What. The. Hell. Are. You. Doing?" he emphasized every word carefully, breathing hard.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I want you" she looked incredible, hair a mess, lips red and wet, breath coming in quick pants... House shivered, his control barely holding.

For some reason the fresh wave of desire fueled his anger.

"You want me, _Remy_? All of a sudden you want me? What, is this a pity-fuck or your girlfriend just doesn't have the equipment to do you right and you thought, hey, he just got out of prison, he's up for anything? Well, what do you know, as the great philosopher Jagger once said, you can't always get what you want!" he cringed internally just as the words left his mouth, expecting more than a slap this time.

He was surprised for the second time in just a few minutes.

She laughed, leaned forward a bit licking a path from his neck up to the ear while her hand squeezed him just right through his jeans, eliciting another involuntary jerk of his hips. Her breath was hot in his ear as she whispered "Actually, I missed you". Another lick right below his ear. Oooh fuck. "... and _this_ was just something I wanted for a long time, but hey, no problem if you're not interested". She got up torturously slow and headed for the door. "Although, you do seem to be..._up_ for anything" eyeing a certain obvious part of his anatomy. He was still speechless.

"Bye House, see you around someday" the door closed quietly behind her.

His mind still hazy, House reached for his glass of scotch then changed his mind. More alcohol was the last thing he needed. He squirmed in his seat, trying to ease some of the pressure. What the hell was all this about? He could honestly say he didn't understand anything at this point. No, that wasn't completely true; he understood that he blew his chance for...for what? For a quick fuck, or was it something more there? And now he was left with an almost painful hard-on on top of another puzzle he just _had_ to solve. Okay, first thing first - a hooker maybe? For some unknown reason, the thought didn't appeal to him that much. So shower it is, he thought, awkwardly pushing up from the armchair.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Mornings usually brought some clarity of thought and some answers. Usually. But that, apparently, was too much to ask for today, House mused, slowly making his way into the hospital, much later than he should have. He still had absolutely no idea of what had happened the other night. Sure, he remembered everything quite clearly, '_too clearly'_ he almost groaned out loud, but the puzzle wasn't any closer to being solved.

No new cases, hours of clinic duty and idiotic patients didn't do anything for his mood, so people stayed safely out of his path when he made his way to Wilson's office.

"Important consult, medical stuff". The patient was still seated. Idiot.

"That means get the hell out" he clarified.

A couple of minutes of Wilson profusely apologizing and rescheduling and House had him all for himself, finally. "What is it now, House? I happen to know you don't have any new case" Wilson's resigned sigh spoke of many more such occurrences.

He plopped down in the freshly vacated chair, legs stretched out in front of him. Perfect picture of relaxed. Right.

"Thirteen came by for a fuck last night". Okay, there probably was a better way of saying that, but he wasn't in the mood. Plus, Wilson's face – priceless.

"I assume you mean that literally"

House just gave him a long 'don't be a moron' look and nodded.

"You're serious" wide eyes, slightly hanging jaw. "So, what? She showed up and asked..."

"Actually, she made a quick demonstration. I exercised my womanly right to say no"

Now he was truly awed. "You did? Why? I mean, good for you, I think, but...why?"

House almost felt insulted. "What, so I'm a sex-toy? She calls and I deliver?"

"Well, you normally would" House couldn't argue with that. "And you just got out of prison, she's particularly hot, you didn't have to pay for it..." he ticked the reasons using his fingers.

"You shock me Wilson" he made a mockingly outraged face. "Aren't you supposed to be my Jiminy cricket?"

He scowled "I was trying to think from your point of view. No reason for you not to go for it...unless..." he stopped, the light-bulb turning on in his mind as good as visible. "Unless you _like_ her"

House frowned, sitting up straighter. "Don't be an idiot, Wilson. I don't like anybody". _See, that's settled. _

"Yeah, right, I almost forgot. You're immune to those pesky human feelings. So, what now?"

"I don't know" he mumbled through clenched teeth. "I don't have any fucking idea"

Well, that was really something for House to admit. "What do you want to do?"

"Do I need to spell it out? I just got out of prison, she's particularly hot..." he reiterated Wilson's earlier arguments.

"Not what I meant. But then you know that. What do you _plan_ to do about it?"

House didn't appear to listen. "I haven't seen or heard from her in all this time... Not that it was any different with you" he threw an accusatory glance. Wilson had the decency to look ashamed for a second but covered quickly. _'Good enough for me'_. He went on "...and now, all of a sudden, she's interested? And she's in a relationship, a serious one too, apparently. She was gonna pack up and move to Greece with her _girlfriend_ just yesterday. What game is she playing?" he sighted "She said she missed me" he added quietly.

Wilson turned toward the large window, his back to the room. "She did. So did I. But you're not the easiest or most pleasant person to be friends with, House, and you don't usually want to see it when people show they care" he waited for the jab and was surprised when it didn't come. "She came by often to get news about you. We...had someone on the inside who called with regular updates on you. We thought...I thought, it was better this way. I'm sorry" he sounded like he meant it.

Why was everybody working on tearing down his walls these days, House thought. He refrained from opening his mouth, afraid his voice would sound weird, or, God forbid, that what he felt would show somehow. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't that expendable after all. He slammed the mask back into place, hoping the extended silence didn't give much away. "Probably was"

"So, you're going to go talk to her, or...?"

"I don't _talk_. And anyway, my new jewelry doesn't allow me to just swing by her place" he lifted his leg slightly to show off the ankle monitor.

"You could always ask Foreman to clear it with the police... Or you could use that technological marvel called a phone, you had no problem sending her 17 messages and how many calls in the last couple of days..."

"She won't take the call. She is, apparently, more...action-oriented..." he stood abruptly, at least as abruptly as his leg allowed him to and left.

'_I should be used to this by now'_ Wilson shook his head, leaving in search of his long-ignored patient.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

'_Payback's a bitch',_ House thought, leaning hard on her doorbell bright and early next morning. _'I hope she's asleep'_. His plan to just drop by the previous evening and rattle some chains was hindered by the stupid monitor, but, to his surprise, Foreman came through and he was allowed this one detour in the morning.

The person who finally answered the door was not Thirteen, though. He had to admit the woman was pretty, dark hair, big dark eyes, surprised.

"Yes?"

"Where's Thirteen?"

Just a slight pause "You must be House. She's asleep. I'll tell her you visited" she went to close the door, finding his cane blocking it.

"Can I help you with anything else?" her politeness screamed sarcasm.

He pushed the door open and calmly made his way into the living-room.

"So you're the girlfriend"

"Elena. And you're the annoying ex-boss, ex-con". Well, she could certainly give as good as she got.

"Yep. So, where's Thirteen?" he repeated.

"_Remy_ is sleeping. Now, if there is nothing else..."

"It's okay, Ellie, I'm awake". She was standing in the bedroom door looking all soft and warm and sleepy and wearing the smallest and thinnest pajamas he had ever seen. _Hell_.

"'morning House. Can I get you a coffee? Please, sit" she was all business, nothing weird here, no 'I-almost-dry-humped-you-to-death' awkwardness.

He needed a reason to linger, so... "Yeah, coffee's fine" he sat at the small kitchen table, looking to all the world like the most relaxed bloke ever. Or so he hoped.

"Ellie, another coffee?"

"No, thanks, I was just leaving for work. See you tonight?"

"Sure, call when you're done, we'll have time for dinner" she placed the cup on the table in front of House and went to see her off. His eyes bulged and he was sure his jaw must be hanging open as he witnessed the hottest kiss ever, open mouths and tongues and all. Elena finally left with a warm smile directed at her girlfriend and a curt nod at him, leaving him with a barely-clad Thirteen and, again, a raging hard-on.

"You're okay, House, you look kind of...flushed?" she was the picture of innocence. He didn't buy that for a second, in fact, he would bet his paycheck on the fact that the little...display was very much for his benefit. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of showing just how much she was affecting him.

He had to cough a little to clear his voice. "Sure, fine. Sooo, you haven't left for Greece yet?"

"No, not yet. Ellie's leaving tonight to spend some time with her family in Athens and I'll join her in a few days"

He couldn't keep his mouth shut a moment longer. "Look, not that I'm the one to speak, but isn't this a bit...oh, I don't know, _hypocritical_?"

"Why would you think that?"

He felt the need to yell again and bit down hard on his anger. _Maybe prison did teach him a few things. _

"Well, you seem to be all cozy and kissy-faced and _moving to another country together_ but you don't seem to have any problem with practically jumping me the other night!" he couldn't keep his voice from raising at the end of the sentence.

She laughed. Again. She had the audacity to laugh _again_ in his face.

"Oh House, you thought I was cheating!" she stopped laughing.

"Look, I told Ellie about my visit. I tell her everything. We love each other, but we're not in an exclusive relationship, at least not yet. Maybe that will come, maybe not, for now this way is easier. None of us is great at commitment"

He was speechless again. This was getting to be a habit where she was concerned and he hated it.

"So what, you just..." _'fuck around'_ he wanted to say but thought better of it. "Did you use the 'non-exclusive' clause before?" '_Why would I care, why the hell would I care?'_

"No, I didn't. She did, with her ex-husband, and I'm fine with it"

"So why didn't you ever..."

She shrugged "I'm just not interested in anybody else" _'Except for you'_ she didn't think she had to say that out loud.

He was quiet for a little while, and she could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. "Why me then?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh come on House, you're supposed to be a genius. I _like_ you, okay? I have for a long time; I like your mind and your fucked-up annoying personality and even the fact that you're such an ass! And I'm attracted to you, also for a long time. How the hell did you not pick up on that?"

_Right, how the hell did he not pick up on that? _It's not like he had any self-esteem issues, but somehow she always seemed _way_ out of his league. Huh. So she was attracted to him. And she liked him. Sweet! Of course the wheels just had to keep turning.

"Why does she hate me?"

"What? She doesn't!"

"Yes, she does. You can't tell me you didn't pick up on _that_"

She tried deflecting "Considering your lovely personality, that shouldn't come as much of a surprise". He just waited. _'Sure, now he had to notice'._

Okay, no more deflecting. It was now or never, and if he couldn't accept...

"She doesn't like the fact that I have...feelings for you"

Speechless again. _'Great, just great'_.

"Feelings...?"

"Yeah, _feelings_, House. Those stupid idiotic human emotions you so hate. I have feelings for you, I _care_ about you, and before you run for the hills throwing sarcastic comments at me let me make it clear. I care about you, hell knows why, but this is hardly a declaration of un-dying love. I'm not in love with you, but that's about all I know or I can explain. So, that's it. Fire away!" She braced for the impact of his next words.

Nothing... Small movements of the eyebrows...Still nothing... Then finally "So, the other night, you were just being a good little duckling and applying what I said before about believing actions and not words..."

Well, well, well. No sarcastic comments. That could only mean one thing – he was actually interested. Also, the mention of feelings didn't send him running, and that said enough. Not that she expected him to say anything to that regard. Ever. "Something like that, yeah. Besides, I was horny"

He choked on his coffee and knocked his cane down in the same move.

Again the innocent face as she bent slowly to pick his cane up, giving him a full view of her breasts. No bra.

"It was really nice talking to you, House, but I have an appointment in half an hour and I need to get ready" she smiled sweetly and placed a slow kiss on his lips. "Bye!" she disappeared in the bathroom, closing the door.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The rest of the day at the hospital passed pretty much in a haze of confusion, anger and arousal. Not necessarily in that order. His free-pass from the police expired, so he couldn't go visit. Besides, he had his pride, how dare she leave him hanging! Twice! He chose to ignore the fact that the first time was actually all his doing, it wasn't his fault at all that she caught him at a bad time and confused the hell out of him! The puzzle wasn't that much of a puzzle after all, and House caught himself just in time before he actually got to feel disappointed about that.

She, they, did think about him after all, Thirteen and Wilson and apparently the rest of his former team. He didn't dare think and even less so _ask_ about Cuddy. That chapter was done and buried in a neat box right besides the one labeled "Stacy". Thirteen was smart _'and hot, but that's not relevant'_ and, apparently, she did know him pretty well. So maybe he wasn't so wrong in his expectations of her. She knew that if she came right out with some corny syrupy "I missed you I'm so glad you're back" kind of shit he would have probably slammed the door in her face. And he did say as much just the other day, that he would choose to believe actions over words. Okay, different context but whatever.

It was the "feelings" part that still had him confused. Well, if the big picture was fuzzy, he could always try and analyze it symptom by symptom. She liked him – that was actually not so unexpected, considering all his previously stated assumptions that she did indeed _know_ him. And the fact that she was strange enough herself for that. Not in love with him – thank God for that, that would leave him majorly disappointed in her. He really didn't need a second dose of Cameron-type teenager-y, puppy-love. The _caring_ - that made him feel...uneasy. He wasn't going to say 'scared' in a million years. And he also wasn't going to say that, somewhere deep down, he actually _enjoyed_ the fact that somebody out there actually gave a crap. That _she_ gave a crap. About him. People cared about cars and TV-show characters and puppies _'okay, not the best comparison'_ and what else, so maybe it wasn't such a big deal. _'Yeah, I totally believe that'_. Sure, her arrangement with her girlfriend was kind of weird, but hey, who was he to judge?

So all was well and surely she'll come over tonight and they could pick up where they left off.

Only she didn't. And not the next night either. By the third day there was not one person in the entire hospital who dared even _look_ at him for fear of retaliation. Foreman threatened, Wilson talked, Park and Adams scurried away.

And then the bloody doorbell rang _again_ when he was nodding off in his armchair. Thirteen. Innocent faced and all.

"Hey. Sorry, did I wake you?"

"You didn't come!"

She looked around with mocking carefulness. "Yeah, I think I did. I'm here, right?"

"I mean two days ago!" she was driving him absolutely mad, and...

"I didn't realize we had plans...?"

House clenched his teeth. He _couldn't_ let her see what she was doing to him. He had a reputation after all. "So, what are you doing here?"

She leaned her head to one side "We're having that conversation again? Isn't this a bit... déjà vu?"

He didn't say anything and didn't move from the doorway.

She smiled a bit sadly and looked at him for a few moments "It's fine, House. See you around some time". She turned to leave.

_Fuck_ his pride and reputation and whatever. She was _not_ leaving him for the third time! He grabbed her arm and pulled her inside, slamming the door shut with his cane.

"Well, are you gonna offer a girl something to drink...?"

He still didn't say anything. Nothing _to_ say. He pulled her suddenly close, this time making the first step and slamming his mouth against hers. She didn't put up any resistance as his tongue licked her lower lip and slipped inside her mouth. Her arms rose to circle around his neck, one hand holding onto the short hair at his nape, slightly angling his head for better access. He was pouring a lot of three days' worth of frustration into the kiss, not giving her a chance to catch her breath. Not that she seemed to care too much about breathing at the moment.

He grabbed her hips hard, this time not to push her away but to draw her in to rub against him. She obliged wholeheartedly and with an abandon that threatened to irrevocably ruin his 'I'll show her who's in control' plan. Okay, two could play this game. One of his hands deftly slipped beneath her blouse and bra in one single move, fingers toying with one breast, then the other. As she seemed to be particularly responsive to his actions, it didn't take long for House to identify exactly what was that made her falter in her movements against him and to use that knowledge to the fullest. Repeatedly dragging a nail softly over her nipple, barely touching, had her moaning into his mouth in no time then breaking the kiss to throw her head back. That at least gave him the excuse to push her away just a bit so he could get rid of both their shirts and_ 'who said you couldn't kill two rabbits with one stone?'_ at the same time make her stop the dangerously delightful rubbing against him.

He dragged her in front of the couch so he could sit and grinned widely against her skin as his mouth and teeth got busy with her nipples, tongue flicking fast over each of them. Her knees felt weak and she moaned again, grabbing his shoulders for support.

"This...House...is not a competition"

He stopped for a moment to look up at her face. "Oh yes it is" his mouth went to work again.

She pushed him to rest against the back of the couch while she so very slowly unzipped her jeans and peeled them off, followed by the tiny piece of black lace that passed for panties. His eyes were glued to her body, her moves flowing and sensual, maddening. His hands itched to reach out and touch her, grab her, anything, and he unconsciously fisted them in the cushion cover. She leaned over to kiss him again, slow and deep. His hands went to pull her down over him but she wouldn't have any of that. She placed his hands back on the cushions and kneeled on the floor between his legs. She kissed the side of his neck, licking and nipping at his skin, finding that spot right below his ear where... _'oh hell she remembered that spot'_.

He let his head fall back and bit back the moan threatening to escape, feeling her smile against his chest. She tentatively licked and bit down gently on one of his nipples and this time he groaned deep in his throat and clenched his fists harder into the cover. She apparently had an uncanny ability to find all the spots that drove him crazy and decided to take full advantage of that.

By the time she reached his belt and casually dragged her teeth over his still clad erection while unbuttoning his jeans he was already on the brink of losing any shred of control left. She didn't try to take the jeans completely off, just enough so she could reach him comfortably. The first feel of her mouth on him almost drove House over the edge, only sheer stubbornness allowing him to not embarrass himself. Every time he tried using his hands, more or less consciously, she placed them back on the couch, the inability to just _do_ something adding to his frustration. She teased him slowly, alternating between long licks, quick flicks of the tongue and drawing him deep into her mouth. Never hard enough or fast enough to let him finish. He could barely draw enough oxygen and didn't even try to control the sounds anymore. '_God can you actually die from this 'cause it sure feels like that...' _and just as he decided that _'Fuck the competition'_ and that he was going to grab her head and hold it in place and... she stopped. And smiled sweetly, albeit more than a little strained herself, like she _knew_ he was gonna throw in the towel.

She pulled his jeans off and he was too far gone to even care about the scar, which the devious woman probably anticipated. She went to straddle him but _'hell_ _if I'm gonna let her run the whole show'_ she found herself thrown on her back on the couch, House on top. He lowered his head to get reacquainted with her nipples and it took even less time than before to make her arch her back to push harder against his mouth. He moved a hand lower to touch her and _'ooh the sounds she made...'_ let his fingers play with her like he was playing his guitar, fast and slow, hard and soft, until she was bucking wildly beneath him. _'Well, well, not so smug now, are we?'_. His much heavier body kept her pinned in place, totally and completely at his mercy, and he used his advantage to the maximum. Not that her squirming against him was the easiest thing to bear, but seeing her this out of control was _so_ worth the almost painful pressure of his arousal.

"House stop..." He didn't think he heard her right and his fingers froze involuntarily.

"No, no... you idiot! I mean...stop playing and just..." she sounded breathless and _'Yes!'_ desperate.

'_Oh thank God!'_ he didn't think he could have waited a moment longer. He raised one of her legs to place it over the backrest and pushed inside in a single smooth move. She moaned loudly and arched her back and he used the opportunity to slip his arms under her to grab her shoulders from behind for better leverage.

He was practically shaking with need and lowered his face into her neck for a few moments to regain his bearing. The moment felt frighteningly intimate as her arms came up to wrap around him and House felt a flash of panic at the thought that he might cry. But then her hips jerked slightly beneath him in an involuntary reaction and he started moving, the panic gone. He tried to make it last, but the truth was it had been so long and he was so worked up already that it was becoming increasingly difficult to hold on. She was eagerly meeting his every thrust and making all those delicious noises right in his ear and for some reason he really wanted, no, _needed_, to see her reach her completion first. He angled her hips a bit and pushed more forcefully and just as he thought there was no power in heaven or hell that could help him hold off any longer he felt her starting to contract around him. Her short nails dug hard into his back and she screamed gutturally against the side of his neck and he could only choke out a groan before being thrown into a vortex, the longest and most powerful orgasm he could remember ripping through his entire body.

A minute later he was on his side, _'at least I didn't suffocate her'_, and Thirteen's smile was tired and genuine.

His eyes scanned her from head to toe and she let him, no embarrassment and apparently no regrets and... _'she's just absolutely gorgeous and...damn I do care about her too...'_. So naturally the only thing he could think of doing was to produce some sort of jack-ass-y comment. He couldn't come up with anything.

"Don't do that"

"Don't do what? Isn't it a bit too late for me to..._not_ do something?"

"House, I feel _so_ good. This was _so_ good. More than good, actually. Don't try to find something to ruin my mood"

Yeah, it _was_ more than good. Pretty amazing, in fact. _She_ was pretty amazing, which was exactly why he intended to come up with the aforementioned jack-ass-y comment. No problem finding the logic in that, right? But truth was he felt good too, _she_ made him feel good, made him feel like a man again and made him feel wanted and desirable and...not expendable. So yeah, maybe he could hold off on the comment.

"Okay" he raised his hand to caress her face softly for a moment and allowed himself to smile too.


	6. Chapter 6

Epilogue

A couple of days later she brought her bags down from her apartment only to find the cab she ordered was gone and House was waiting for her instead behind the wheel of Wilson's car. He opened the door for her. "Your carriage to the airport awaits, my lady"

She had to admit she was impressed. "How did you manage this? Aren't you gonna get arrested again?"

"You don't want to know. But it would be worth it for a friend...for someone I...care about" he mumbled the last part so quietly she barely heard it. She didn't think he would appreciate her making a big deal out of this, so she just leaned over and kissed him thoroughly, eyes smiling.

"So... friends, huh?'

"That depends. With or without benefits?"

She laughed. "We could probably work some benefits in if the opportunity arises"

"Good, 'cause I can always appreciate a good competition with a worthy opponent"

1


End file.
